The Diary
by PPP SSC
Summary: Lindsay finds a diary that praises Cody nonstop. Izzy is convinced that Noah wrote it. Noah and Cody are certain he didn't. One-sided Cody/Gwen, Owen/Izzy, NOT Noah/Cody except in the mind of Izzy. Rated K-plus for mild themes. First person.


The Diary

Now, once, a couple of years ago, before any of us knew the existence of Sierra, something terrible happened. Normally, I wouldn't care, seeing as gossip is not my forte, however, this particular gossip was horrible… dreadful, even. It was the time that I was humiliated to no end by Izzy.

It all started the day after the last episode of the season. We were just sitting around the pool at our resort. I was nonchalantly reading, as always, when all of the sudden, a thud was heard. After a number of us glanced around to make sure that Tyler and Cody didn't hurt themselves, I saw a book on the edge of the pool. Lindsay picked it up, and began to read it.

"Hey, look what I found, guys!" she shouted, "A diary!"

"A diary?" Heather shouted with way too much enthusiasm for a sane person, "I want to read it!" She flipped through the pages, far too loudly, and then grunted like a savage gorilla. "It's just a bunch of mushy Cody-praise!"

"Um, yeah," I told Heather, "If you don't want to read about other people's boring secrets, maybe you shouldn't be a busybody!"

"Nobody asked you!" she shouted back at me.

"Did somebody say mushy Cody-praise! ?" Cody exclaimed excitedly, pushing Heather down. He flipped through the diary too, although quietly. He was visibly perspiring.

"Cody," I said, "You keep sweating. You better be careful, or you might ruin Heather's designer… buttons!"

Unaware of my scathing remark toward Heather, Cody apologized. Then he said, "I know who wrote this. It was Gwen. Gwen…"

I didn't comment.

Unfortunately, Gwen did. "Okay, Cody, I wrote this! And even though you've made it painfully obvious that you love me back, I _still _kept it a secret."

Cody asked, "Really?" and I could just see his eyes get bright and big. Cody is far too idealistic. What I learned long ago is that distrust and distance prevent you from getting hurt.

"No," Heather responded coldly, "She was being _sarcastic. Obviously!"_

"Wow, Heather," I answered, "He doesn't understand sarcasm, so you have to yell at him and hit him with the blow, all at once, instead of easing him into it."

"Why are _you _of all people defending him?" Heather asked.

I had to come up with a good answer. Mainly, it was because he got a lot of unjustified hate. I didn't care particularly for him, but he certainly didn't get on my bad side. On top of that, Heather _was_ on my bad side. I gave the best answer I could—one that was sure to strike a blow to Heather. "In a war against you, I would defend _Ezekiel."_

"Hey, don't be mean, eh!" the aforementioned homeschooled kid responded.

"I know why Noah's defending Cody!" Izzy shouted.

"Why?" a love-struck Owen asked.

"Because he's _in love _with Cody!" Izzy yelled, and I suddenly felt like twenty-one pairs of eyes were staring at me. I buried my face in my book, hoping to avoid the stares. "I bet he even wrote this diary!"

Normally, I would have nonchalantly examined it, explained in great detail why the handwriting and diction were not mine, and handed it back to the utter shock of everyone there and the jealous rage of know-it-all wannabe Harold. However, seeing as how Izzy just told _everyone _that I was gay for Cody, and that Cody was _right there, _I felt too self-conscious to do anything.

"Oh, look," Izzy said, "He's embarrassed!"

And then, for the first time in my life, someone came to my defense. Unfortunately, it was the last person I wanted to. "Hey," Cody shouted, "That was an accident… and we haven't spoken of it again!"

"Was it an accident, Cody?" Izzy asked, "Or did you _think _it was an accident?"

"Why would I think it was an accident if it wasn't?" Cody asked, confused.

"I don't know," Izzy said, and I peeked up for just a second, and noticed she was making evil eyes. I was positively terrified. "Noah's pretty clever… you don't think he could fake shocked disapproval?"

I was constantly fretting that Cody would soon be persuaded by Izzy. And if he believed it, how could I convince _anyone _it wasn't true?

"I don't know, Izzy," Cody said, "It seems rather dubious."

"Dubious?" Izzy asked, "Or true?"

"Dubious," Cody responded.

I breathed a sigh of relief that Cody didn't believe her, and then, hoping it was all over, continued reading my book.

Unfortunately, my problems were far from over. We went to eat dinner, and I sat down between Trent and Justin. It wasn't by choice—there were only two seats left, and the only other vacancy was next to Katie and Sadie.

However, almost immediately when I sat down, Trent and Justin got up and left, and if I didn't know any better I'd say every other guy did as well. I knew better because Owen stayed behind to eat everyone else's dinner, and Cody reluctantly sat down beside me after being brushed off by a group of four girls, including Gwen.

"Why are you sitting next to me?" I asked Cody, "There are tons of vacancies now that I've chased all the other guys away."

"I'm here!" Owen reminded, gobbling up all of the food in front of him, in front of the girls, in front of Cody, and in front of me.

"I don't see why you should have to sit alone, just because of some _lie _that Izzy told!" he responded.

"Right," I said, "And you _do _realize that by sitting next to me, you're just going to encourage her to repeat the lie?"

"Does it matter?" Cody asked, "It doesn't matter what they think of you, right? Isn't that your philosophy?"

"Yeah," I responded, "My philosophy is also that I'd rather sit alone than with creeps."

"You don't think I'm a creep, do you, Noah?" Cody asked me.

I didn't have an answer. I mean, my default setting for strange humans is "creep", but Cody hasn't really done anything creepy. I wanted to tell him "no", because that wouldn't hurt his feelings and would be true, but at the same time, telling him "no" would be tantamount to suicide with Izzy's spy standing right next to us. I did the only thing I could. "Hey, Owen, free donut bar!"

"Donut bar! Sweet!" he shouted, and then headed over to the donut bar.

When I was positive Owen was out of earshot, I said to Cody, "No, Cody, I don't think you're a creep."

"Wow," Cody said, "That really means a lot to me, Noah."

"Yeah," I said, "I actually… don't think you're half-bad."

"Same to you," Cody responded. He put his hand into his coat pocket and said, "Now that we're alone…"

I watched as he pulled out the diary, and opened it. I looked at the handwriting, and my eyes turned the size of Quebec. It was _bright purple. _"Seriously," I said, "Bright purple handwriting? Mine!"

"I told her it was dubious," Cody shrugged.

"Well," I said, smiling, "At least you pay enough attention to know I don't use bright purple handwriting."

Cody responded, "That, and I've never seen you keep a diary. Ever. In fact, I don't even think that this diary was written by someone _on _the show."

I chuckled slightly, "I guess you have a secret admirer off the set."

"Yeah," Cody said, "I wonder who it could be. I hope whoever she—or he—is, we can meet someday."

As you know, Cody got his wish. And you know what, he was disappointed. And so, in short, optimism will bring you nothing but pain, Sierra's handwriting does not look anything like mine, and most importantly, when I tell Cody I'm not gay for him, he believes me.

Author's (Izzy's) note: But should he?


End file.
